Back in the first wave, before the clingfilm was even off the cheese platters at a Downing Street “meeting”, I caught Covid. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what it was, but we were still in the guesswork phase where tests were rationed to inpatients and long-term care residents. So I just coughed a bit, complained to my husband about how brutally unfair it was that I caught it and he didn’t,and isolated myself away.
I didn’t think much more of it until I began to get a ringing in my ears. Enter stage right: a tinnitus cameo. I assumed it was just a part of getting old — my body was creaking through its 40th year and this was surely just one of the